The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes-Chapter 121- just a second

"You don’t have to do this!" Charles snapped, his voice cold and distant. Expecting him to open his heart so easily was just impossible.

"Derrick, please... don’t reject a father’s love again..." Derrick sighed deeply. Just being able to see his son one more time like this was already more than he could hope for. "I’m leaving now. Take care of yourself."

The airport announcement echoed overhead.

Derrick turned quickly, his hunched figure blending into the crowd of passengers. In mere moments, he was gone from sight.

Only then did Charles realize—time had flown by. Derrick... was truly old now.

Derrick and Philip left for France, and life returned to how it used to be. That house, once filled with Derrick and Philip’s presence, was a place Charles rarely visited. Now, there was no reason to go back at all.

"Pack up your things and move back home," Charles said flatly, tossing the keys to Snowpeak Villa onto August’s desk. The "home" he referred to wasn’t vague—it was the house Derrick had given to August. From now on, it belonged to him.

"Why?" August asked, confused. He hadn’t been informed about Derrick’s arrangements.

Charles merely waved a hand. "He and Philip went back to France. The house is yours now. Move in."

August blinked, stunned. The man he least wanted to face had left so quietly. His heart felt heavy, as though someone had thrown a stone into a still lake—no relief, only deeper unease.

"You and Manfred are just friends. I hope you understand that. You’re Derrick’s son—whether you admit it or not, that’s the truth." Charles leaned forward, one hand on his desk. His tall, proud figure towered over August, his gaze fixed on the young man’s furrowed brow. It was a gesture he had noticed often. Funny—brothers really did share some habits.

Instinctively, August wanted to reject the idea. He had never once accepted that man as his father. To him, Norman was his real dad. But he had already compromised with Charles—he had agreed to let Manfred go, and in doing so, let himself go too.

It was time to walk away.

"...Alright. I understand." August pocketed the heavy keys without another word.

Charles watched him with satisfaction before turning to leave the office. But when he saw that all the assistants and secretaries outside August’s office were men, his face darkened again.

August hated women, yet he didn’t mind Janet? That was something Charles just couldn’t wrap his head around.

"Giles," he called as soon as he returned to his own office, "Assign a female secretary to August. Replace his male assistant too. He needs more exposure to women."

Since he had taken responsibility for this younger brother, Charles would change him—bit by bit—until he became a ’normal’ man.

Later that day, Janet stormed into Charles’s office, having just gotten the news from Giles.

"So... you knew all along?" she asked, glaring at him as he reviewed documents.

She had only figured out August’s secret after witnessing that kiss between him and Manfred. To find out Charles had known even earlier—it was shocking.

"Silly girl," Charles chuckled, a mix of pride and amusement in his voice. "I’m a man. Sometimes, all it takes is a look—and you know everything."

There was something called intuition between brothers. Charles had sensed the truth ever since August and Manfred co-founded ZT Group. Their relationship had never been ordinary.

"Seriously? You’re that sharp?" Janet blinked, skeptical.

As she widened her eyes to examine him carefully, Charles’s sharply defined face seemed to blur in her vision—for just a second.

Janet stood up slowly. That strange blurry sensation seemed to fade a little again. She turned to look at Charles’s desk, piled high with documents, and offered a considerate smile.

"You go ahead and work. I’ll leave you to it."

"Lunch. Together," Charles replied casually, not noticing her small hesitation. He reached out, pulled her back down, and planted a kiss on her lips before letting her go.

"Got it," Janet replied, biting her lip with a blush. In the company, everyone already knew she was the boss’s wife. As his secretary, she was honestly more idle than he was!

"Ah—!"

As Janet headed toward the door, her hand slipped while grabbing the handle. A sudden wave of dizziness swept over her. She lost her balance and slammed her forehead against the metal frame with a soft thud, the skin immediately swelling red.

Hearing her cry out, Charles dropped his pen and rushed over, gripping her shoulders and turning her around. His voice carried both worry and scolding.

"Why are you being so careless?"

He gently pressed his long fingers against her forehead and blew on the spot with care. The concern in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.

"I’m fine... just a little dizzy. Probably didn’t sleep well last night," Janet muttered as she pulled his hand away. The pain was fading, and she tried to brush it off.

"Oh? Are you blaming me for not letting you sleep properly last night?" Charles suddenly leaned close, whispering into her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

Janet’s legs weakened at the teasing, and she nearly fell into his arms.

"Stop talking nonsense!" she hissed in embarrassment, landing a soft punch on his chest before pushing him a few steps away.

"Go back to work. I’m leaving!"

Her cheeks were burning. Her heart thumped wildly. Thankfully, they were on the top floor where no one else would walk in. If anyone saw how affectionate they were in the office, they’d probably call her a trophy wife. Ever since marrying Charles, he’d been reducing her workload bit by bit—probably afraid she’d tire herself out.

That thought made Janet’s heart sweeten like honey. She walked to her desk, reached for her phone—and saw a missed call.

Ternence.

Her fingers hovered over the screen. Should she call back?

Then it hit her. The last time she was trapped by Manfred, it was Elvira who had lured her out using Ternence’s name. The memory made her jaw tighten. With a cold snort, she tossed the phone aside and buried herself in work.

Across town, a quiet parting was unfolding.

"You’re really leaving?"

Manfred stood with his arms crossed, watching August load the last of his luggage into the car. His tone wasn’t angry, just heavy—filled with reluctance, not attachment.

If it had been in the past, maybe he would have begged him to stay. But now... something had changed.

August offered a small, calm smile.

"Yes. It’s for the best."

He didn’t say more, but both of them knew what he meant.

If he stayed, August feared he would never be able to walk away.

Two men couldn’t live out a fairytale romance. Love like theirs was too fragile under society’s glare. And besides, August knew—deep down—Manfred didn’t truly love men.

He had fallen for a woman again.

For Janet.

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